


I See Belgarath Has Taken A Liking To You

by High_Spanxicutioner



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Body Horror, Bondage, Consensual Non-Consent, Dubious Consent, Eldritch Horrors, F/F, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, Grimdark (Homestuck), Oviposition, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:47:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25971595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/High_Spanxicutioner/pseuds/High_Spanxicutioner
Summary: All good eldritch gods demand a sacrifice, of blood or of something else. In the case of the Unspeakable One, It Who Brings Faintly Wiggling Damnation, all that's required is a good old fashioned fertility ritual.Karkat would make a decent broodmother, once the right changes are made...--Drone Season 2020 fill!
Relationships: Rose Lalonde/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18
Collections: Drone Season 2020





	I See Belgarath Has Taken A Liking To You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeviousCreator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeviousCreator/gifts).



> "Karkat, consensually or not, gets transformed from a troll boy to a (human or troll) girl by the power of Rose's Grimdark Majykks, and gets pumped full of Eldritch eggs. Bonus points for those eggs then hatching and visceral descriptions of them slithering out of her"
> 
> Now this was a lot of fun. Hope you enjoy!

The sacrificial altar of the Great Unspeakable One, It of Many Names and Bringer of Faintly Wiggling Damnation, isn't much to look at to an outside observer. A simple stone pillar that juts up from the ground, thinner around than the average person and only slightly taller, with some metal cuffs dangling from the very top of it- the sort of thing one might come across in the backdrop of a mediocre fantasy game, and idly observe on their way to and from the chest of mid-tier loot.  
In fact, even on this fateful night, the altar itself is far from the main object of interest in the chilled sacrificial chamber; rather, it's the troll man currently tied to it, not a stitch of clothing on his body save for the rubber ball gag serving as a slightly anachronistic way of silencing any disrespectful whining about his situation.

Even eldritch cults have to upgrade sometimes, it seems.

His attention has been occupied, since he'd been tied there, by continued attempts at tugging his cuffs free from the stone, though he's only succeeded in working up a faint sheen of sweat by the time that the architect of his suddenly worryingly fleeting destiny walks into the room.  
Or, to be more accurate, she glides into the room. Her robes obscure the exact motion of her feet, but it certainly seems as though her feet don't even touch the ground from the eerie stillness of her motion. The fact that those same robes also shroud her face in shadow via the hood up over her head only adds to the aesthetic, too, though she lowers that by the time she comes up close to her sacrifice. 

A hand is lifted to trail over Karkat's chest, and her head tilts in amusement as he flinches away from it, the narrowed glare of his eyes answered by the smug expression on her ashen-grey face.  
When she opens her mouth to speak, no sounds understandable as human language come out; rather, a series of harsh and grating clicks and shrieks, delivered with the cadence of a teasing comment even if there's no possible way to understand what the specific words were supposed to be. Thankfully, those specifics aren't really all that needed- the appreciative expression that folds onto her face combined with her hand travelling further south despite wiggled objections convey quite clearly that she thinks the sacrifice for this year is a prime specimen indeed. Despite that, her assessment doesn't seem to be entirely positive, as when her hand reaches her captive's member, she curls her lip and shakes her head softly.

"...Mmh?" Karkat can't help but to voice his confusion, even if the soft and gently stroking touch of her fingers makes him exhale sharply through his nose immediately after, hips squirming backwards as his bulge quickly starts to stiffen in her hand- soft, surprisingly melodic laughter quickly following.  
Karkat's query is quickly answered, though it's not precisely a wholly positive revelation. A low thrum of magical power starts to emanate from the eldritch priestess' hands, and her bound captive's eyes widen in shock as that sickly purple glow is palmed onto his shaft. Almost pleasurable, at the start- but then the light tingle translates into a low burn, not enough to be truly painful but certainly enough to be uncomfortable, especially when paired with the acute and unavoidable *shrinking* sensation he's suddenly besieged by.   
He looks down, and immediately regrets it- he can clearly see his shaft shrivelling, not softening at all even as it disappears wholly in favour of some newly-form nooklips glistening slightly from leftover arousal. It's a shocking sight, but Karkat doesn't have too long to dwell on it before his captor moves on, dragging her glowing hands up his torso to achieve similar effects.

First, his hips widen and his waist narrows ever so slightly, his chest filling out to a pair of perky breasts and his shoulders becoming slightly less broad. It's an incomplete transformation, though, until the final change is delivered. Stepping up, the priestess sets her hands on Karkat's newly widened hips, fingers digging in to the faint softness as she leans up to press glossy-black lips over the ball gag and onto his.  
Or... hers. Even without the benefit of a mirror, Karkat knows she's quite thoroughly transformed into a woman, and while she may have some suspicions as to why, she can't quite say for sure.

  
That is, of course, until the priestess steps back, and begins to chant in that harsh vocalisation she's been conversing in this whole time. Once again, a purple glow begins, though instead of being focused on the ashen woman's hands, this time the light comes from beneath Karkat's feet, causing the troll girl to look down with considerable apprehension and concern.   
It's well warranted concern, as it's quickly revealed. The ground around the altar starts to crack and part, though the stone ring that Karkat's standing on seems blessedly exempt from destruction. Less blessed, however, is what starts to seep from the cracks in the ground; jet black tentacles with purplish sheen, bulbous and ominous in their construction, coiling and squirming in the open air as they seek something fitting for their grim needs. 

It's a shocking sight, one that leaves Karkat speechless and slack-jawed as she watches the undulating appendages with growing apprehension. Her shocked silence and still contemplation is shattered as the first tentacle starts to coil around her ankle, a loud shriek slipping through the gag and an impulsive kick of her legs sounding out through the thrum of magic in the air.   
As a small mercy, it seems she's not to suffer this alone; her captor is right back up next to her as the tendrils reach her legs, and she's even offered some gentle stroking to her hair and clicking, chirping coos clearly intended to reassure her murmured directly into her ear. Of course, it seems that the priestess' presence may be of dual purpose, as she also makes sure that Karkat doesn't wiggle away too badly, letting the monstrous tendrils coil around her legs more firmly, practically wrenching them apart so her nook can be gently probed at by some slender tips.

"Nnh! Nn-nn! Mmh!" Karkat shakes her head, but the priestess remains unperturbed by her outbursts, letting her free hand travel down the girl's navel and to her nook, using two fingers to gently spread her folds despite louder protests.   
Tendrils of eldritch design and amorous intent care even lesser for the objections of mere mortals, it seems, as it's moments later that Karkat is treated to the not entirely unpleasant sensation of a thick, tapered tentacle sliding up into her, only causing some pleasant stretching at first before the thicker segments start attempting to eagerly cram themselves into her as well. Even if it feels relatively nice, though, Karkat squeals out in discomfort, tugging at her cuffs uselessly all the while.   
Only when the tentacle begins a back and forth, sliding out to the tip and leisurely pushing back in, does Karkat give in and express some pleasure; she moans softly through her gag, her eyelids fluttering, as the priestess giggles and continues soothingly stroking her hair. 

As conflicted as she is on the more pleasurable aspects of the ritual violation she's receiving, Karkat would almost be pleased when things eventually kick back up into gear and shift to something distressing; after all, at least she knows how to react to that.  
Specifically, it's by letting out another shocked screech as the wicked appendage buried in her nook begins to throb and expand, depositing something round and solid into her with little fanfare or warning, as the priestess by the new broodmother's side leans forward with a gleam in her eyes of almost malicious, religious glee at the proceedings.   
Another follows, soon after, some more wriggling feelers rising from the depths to wrap around Karkat's waist, a blind and instinctual attempt at ensuring she won't be going anywhere as egg after egg pumps into her from below, her own squealing slowly and hesitantly shifting to tentative, whimpering moans. Her whole body trembles, her legs threatening to buckle beneath her as the tentacle, satisfied, pulls free from her aching nook and retreats into the earth once more, cracks sealing over as though they were never there. Only the distended roundness to Karkat's belly remains as evidence anything even happened here, a shocking contrast to the almost angry hum and buzz of activity just a few moments prior.

"Mmnh.." Karkat slumps down a little, supported only by her cuffs and the lingering hands of the priestess she offers a confused, hopeful glance towards; wordlessly asking if she's done for now.  
Tragically, it seems that the answer is no. The priestess coos out another few clicks, sinking almost reverently to her knees in front of her trembling captive so she can place both palms flat on the swell of her stomach, prompting a weak little whimper of protest from the girl before the chanting kicks back into gear and all the troll can muster is a roll of her eyes before she braces for something horrible.

For a moment, nothing happens beyond a faintly enjoyable sensation of vibration on Karkat's stomach, but then the metaphorical dessert of the evening starts to make itself known.  
Things start slowly; a little more vibration, this time from Karkat's insides, and then she feels moreso than hears a faint cracking... and after that, hell breaks loose, as whatever eggs were laid in Karkat undeniably start to _hatch_.   
It's a sickeningly slow descent into visceral madness, despite the intensity of it. It seems that whatever bastard spawn Karkat can feel writhing in her belly has a fairly difficult time finding some purchase in their attempts at exiting from her, and the sharp pinpricks of what feel jarringly like _claws_ cause Karkat to let out a few terrified screeches around her gag; though it seems the priestess can't muster up any response beyond leaning closer in interest to watch the distended squirming of her sacrifice's stomach.  
Agonisingly, the first of the wretched demons starts to clamber its way free from Karkat's insides, sharp claws digging firmly into her inner thighs as she shudders in a mixture of revulsion and odd, uncomfortable half-pleasure. At first, she tries to look down, her eyes wide and her face sweaty with the exertion just of her own struggling, but her first glimpse at the horrific form of the scaled monstrosity climbing down her leg causes her to screw her eyes shut and decide right there and then that she very much doesn't want to comprehend the visage of her torment. 

Her tribulations aren't finished with just the one, either; after all, even once the thing had dropped the rest of the way to the floor, only to be scooped up by the priestess and set aside in a box, Karkat felt only marginally less... filled than she had at the start, the tumultuous writhing of her brood still animated enough to make her curse around her gag with weak mumbles. Just the sensation of that first creature had left her sweating and slumped in her bonds, legs trembling, but her job isn't yet done.  
Conformity and coherency don't seem to be traits that Karkat's tentacled baby daddy seem to hold in high regard, as the second creature to opportunistically attempt its escape from her womb feels vastly different; gone are the claws and skittering limbs of the first, replaced by undulating mass of something heavy and writhing, pushing its way out of her with enough stretching to make her howl out again. When it does finally drop down to her ankles, she shudders hard, a hot flush running through her and a weak little moan dribbling from her lips, something that gets a reassuring pat on the thigh from the priestess. 

  
It continues for what must feel in the moment to be hours, chittering and squawking creatures all but ripping themselves free from her, each one markedly different and more intense than the one before. From a beaked, slender creature that flaps its way free from her after tight worming, to thicker monstrosities that relied on brute force to simply stretch her enough for their exit, it's safe to say that Karkat's run the whole gamut of potential spawn.

Probably. Who can say what fresh horrors the eldritch and profane may have had in store for her, had things gone differently?

By the time that the last creature leaves her, something thick and eel-like that flops from her with a wet slap, she's exhausted and shaking, slumped in her bonds with drying tears streaked across her face.   
In front of her, the priestess moves the box to the side and disappears it with a wave of her hand, letting the still silence of the post-event air hang for a few moments before she exhales and reaches up to pluck the gag from Karkat's mouth, leaning in to check on her lightly.

  
"Jesus fuck, Lalonde." Karkat wheezes, making note of how different her voice sounds. "That was way more fucking intense than I thought it would be."

  
"An eldritch priestess doesn't do anything halfway, Karkat. I trust you did still enjoy it?" Rose grins, getting back up to her feet and gently unlocking the cuffs so Karkat can sink gingerly down to sit on her ass. "You were an excellent broodmother, either way."

  
"Yeah, it was... I had fun." Karkat shrugs, wincing as she shifts slightly. "Hey, when am I gonna be turned back to my normal body?"

"Hm, when I feel like it." Rose waggles her eyebrows, snickering as she moves up to sit next to Karkat. "After all, you look cute like this. I'm sure we can find other scenes that take advantage of this physiology- perhaps you'd like to carry a brood for a longer period of time?"  
"Ugh. Asshole." Karkat reaches up to lazily flip Rose off, then purring as she leans in to rest her head on the girl's shoulder. "Maybe."

"We'll discuss it. For now, you need attending to..."


End file.
